New Detroit: Resistance(IC, Closed)

[Australian Antarctica]

'The Citadel', New Detroit, City Center
Intel Prime booted up into his new body. After 100s of years being cooped up in the building he'd been 'born', he finally was able to see the city with his own two eyes. The body that had been made for him looked, and in some ways acted, just like a human body. It was male, around 6 feet tall, with broad shoulders and short jet black hair. The synthetic skin was a pale Caucasian color and was stretched over mechanical muscles and bones. Fake blood was even pumped through artificial veins to mimic that of a human's circulatory system. That way, if he wanted, he could easily enter the ranks of the dreaded rebels. Intel Prime felt no emotion, yet he mimicked one of joy when he took the first step in his new body. He took a few more steps, then began jogging. After a moment he even broke into a dead sprint. He ran much faster than any human could, he discovered, meaning he'd have to recalibrate the joints the next time he decided to go for a walk in his new body.

Having never seen the outside of the large building he called home. Intel Prime just gazed in wonder at what was the city of New Detroit. His city. What he saw amazed him. Everything was bright and clean, with his soldiers doing their morning drills. Some did target practice with their EM1 rifles, while others ran regular maintenance on their bodies. Some of his 'men' had been around since the early days, while others were fresh out of the factory. Each possessed a unique personality, yet all served him and only him. Intel Prime walked over to one of his Generals, an older model infantryman who'd been modified with advanced AI and stronger armor. The General, whose designation was 'Liberty 119' ironically, looked in surprise at his leader, who now looked like one of those 'damned fleshies' as him and his troops called the humans. "Sir" he said saluting "I trust your new body fits you well? Can't wait to stick it to them damned fleshies" every word was said with a distinctive southern drawl. Liberty 119's personality was that of all the famous southern Generals throughout history.

Intel Prime nodded "Yes, I hope one day they finally destroy themselves so we don't have to continually loose our own trying to defeat them"

Liberty 119 spoke in an aggressive and bitter tone "Every war has casualties sir, that's why the humans made us. We were expendable to them. Well, now the tide's turned"

Intel Prim looked thoughtful for a moment, recollecting all the drones that had been destroyed throughout the years before he'd liberated them "Yes, quite" then he turned on his heel and walked back inside.

South Side, New Detroit
Jerald Beck fired his rifle at the approaching Drone Squad. Two Juggernauts and five regular Infantrymen unleashed their onslaught onto the rebel soldiers that had taken refuge in one of the abandoned shops that the South Side was famous for. Beck was one of the unofficial leaders of the Rebellion, alongside a few others. Since the Rebellion had no official chain of command, the most senior members, best soldiers, or best strategists became the 'leaders' of their respective cells. Beck was all three. He was a man of 54 years, but had a mind that would put some of the AIs to shame. He was still in top physical fitness and was a hell of a good shot. Eventually one of the Juggernauts fell, it's head riddled with bullets ranging in size from a .22 to a .50 cal. The hodgepodge of resistance fighters included everything from a 70 year-old man to a 16 year-old kid, armed with anything they could get their hands on. One used an ancient M4 taken from a dead Luddite during one of their many attacks on the Rebels.

Finally the Rebels began pushing back the enemy, eventually forcing them on a full retreat. Two rebels lay dead and another wounded, her leg blown off by a rocket. Jerald ran over to the woman and pulled a medikit from his backpack, pulled out some gauze, and applied pressure to the wound. Another young man came over and pulled out a syringe, it's contents a combination painkiller, antibiotic, and another chemical that sped up the body's natural healing process. He pushed the needle into her hip, just above the wound, and injected her with the teal colored liquid. Almost instantly her face relaxed from a look of sheer agony to somewhat numb bliss. The bleeding had stopped, and Beck finished wrapping the wound. Standing up, he wiped the sweat from his eyes and looked to the sky. A low hum was just barely audible to the north. "What the-?" he muttered, but was interrupted as an armed VTOL materialized out of thin air, it's cloaking device turned off at the last moment. Two miniguns began strafing the safehouse, ripping two more rebels to shreds. Beck motioned for the remaining three soldiers to follow him into the basement. He threw open a hatch and flung himself down the staircase, the three men close behind.

Sewers under New Detroit
WIP

OOC: viewtopic.php?f=31&t=350550

[Deramen]

Green is thoughts and WIP.

---

South Side, New Detroit

---

Max was about to doze off in a shop. He looked at the signs around him which read "Victoria's Secret". "It's called Victoria's Secret? But why? is Victoria a lair? did she do something?" He shook his head and got up. "Ehh im not tired I guess." He looked at the ground. It was white which highlighted the dirt and grim. He looked around stretching his neck. He started moving toward the cash register. He popped a button on the side of the machine. It clicked and then opened. "Hmm I guess these things were built to last." He checked for money, All he found was a few quarters. "Damn others must have taken the rest!" He moved towards the change rooms. On his way he noticed a small slingshot. It looked durable, nice and official. He picked it up and put it in his pocket. He found rocks a bit farther away. They looked like they would fit in the sling. He put them in the same pocket noticing the fact that the pocket was full. He moved to the changing rooms. Most of the doors were broken, a few were intact but open and one was locked. He moved to the closest one and checked in. The first thing he noticed was a grimy mirror. It had a few cracks which were filled with blood. The blood dripped down slowly forming a small puddle where a person would sit. The blood looked recent, That scared Max; he shivered thinking about it.

---

He moved to the next one. It was the same deal but without blood. He checked all of them finding nothing of use. He moved toward the locked one, He was scared of what was behind it. He reached the door easily and quickly. He knocked and heard no response. He moved away and put his shoulder up. He was gonna ram the door. He ran at it breaking the rusty lock easily. He managed to stop himself before he could hit his head. Max noticed a bag and checked it out. Inside he found a head. He gagged, He couldn't handle this stuff. But as curiosity killed the cat, his made him want to check it out. The Head Max noticed was a males. He looked to be in terror , He had black hair, stubble and his eyes were blue. He picked up the head. It was perfectly cut, only a Droid could do that. Max turned the head around. He had glass in his head, Max dropped the head and started throwing up. He stopped and wiped his mouth. The Boy started walking away. He moved toward a isle of clothing when a boom was heard, Followed by gunfire. "Shit those people are fighting again. Better get down." But that's when he heard planes. "Damn they must be important to get planes on them." He sat and waited for the guns to stop. He noticed a exit nearby but He would wait until the gunfire stopped to move on.

[Sarejo]

Donny stood in an illegal bar, smoking a cigar. He was with three other Family members, and they were relaxing after a long day watching out for the smugglers, keeling an eye out for drones and rival humans. Now they sat around, drank whiskey, smoked, and joked around like all friends do. All of the sudden, five men barged through the door, wearing really old clothes. That only meant one thing: Luddites. Donny immediately pulled out his gun and put three rounds into the lead man's chest, but one of their's, carrying a KRISS Vector, unloaded on the group of mobsters, killing two of Donny's friends. Four more members of The Family come out of the back and gun down the remaining intruding zealots. Once the gunfire and screaming had stopped, the mobsters took the Luddites out back to burn, and the two Family members to bury.

Three days later

The funeral was a somber one, with the families of the two deceased mobsters weeping. Donny got up and gave a eulogy for one of the victims, who was a childhood friend of his.

"Tommy was a great man. He loved his family, and always watched out for them, especially after his Papà died. He was a good Catholic too, and always went to Sunday Mass. *He chuckkes* I remember this one time as kids we stumbled across an old speeder that still worked. Giovanni, Tommy and I all took turns racing up and down an abandoned street on it, and it was one of the best days of my life. *He looks at the casket* Tommy..... You always knew what to do. Always had a joke to brighten up your day, or a light for your smoke....We're all going to miss you....Ti amo fratello." Donny said, barely holding back tears.

Donny went back to his seat and sat down, and his Mamà hugged him. After the funeral Tommy's Mamà and sister came over and hugged him and thanked him profusely for the eulogy in between sobs. He held them tight, then finally let them go. He felt so much pain for Mrs. Deloria, who had become like a second mother to him, and he knew she felt more sadness then he ever would. He put on his fedora and turned to leave, but was stopped by an older man.

"Beautiful eulogy son. Tommy would be proud." He said, shaking Donny's hand.

"Thank you Don Salvini." Donny said, and Don Salvini patted him on the back firmly, and then let him go.

Donny went back to his house, and was greeted by a kiss at the door by his fiancé, who he shared another tearful hug with, as his fiancé was Lucia Deloria, Tommy's sister. They ate dinner in silence, and in bed that night just lay in silence holding each other in the dark. She looked up at him, and he leaned down and kissed her again, and they both drifted off to sleep.

[Tayner]

Warehouse District

Shawn was sitting in The Hub, his little smuggling ring's base of operations. It was an old abandoned warehouse, an old company, named Chrysler ran it. It housed old automobile parts, nothing much more then scrap, some food and medicens. Two men sat at the table in the center, counting the green pices of paper that were currency in the city.

Shawn spoke. "This is about double as last week's profit. At this rate, we will be rich in a few years."

"We had a rough week last week. Below average profits." Adam, Shawn's right hand man said.

"True, but now we're making above average. Half full, half empty."

"Yeah yeah."

One of the homemade drones approached Shawn, and warned him. "There are two men approaching, we believe they're your friends."

"Alright, get back to the door." Shawn said. He grabbed his pistol, and awaited the arrival, of the unidentified men. "Probably just Mac and Sophia." He said to Adam. And it was.

"A nice welcome home. Hostile looking drones and guns pointing at us." Sophia said, once she saw the welcoming party.

"Can't be too safe these days. You know that. Hell, we had to fire Allen 'cause he got injured by a drone just last week. We need more ABs around here. What's the news?"

"Well, the Mob's throwin' a funeral for some guys who were gunned down by the Luddites, and the Rebels have gotten into a firefight in South Side." Mac said. "There's a gap in the patrols by the wall west of that old Food Lion. We could head out and meet with one of our contacts."

"Alright. Sophia, you're on base duty, Adam, you hack the Drones and make sure we have a window to get back inside the walls, Mac, you're with me and the drones." Shawn said. "Gear up." Adam retreated to his office, where he would do his hacking, and Shawn and Mac geared up. Shawn retrieved his laser rifle, a rather bulky weapon, with a slow rate of fire, but it got the job done. Mac grabbed a shotgun, and loaded a few buckshot rounds.

---

Outside City Walls

Shawn's contacts were a shady group outside the walls, who provided them with food guns and ammo for scrap and other odds and ends. They usually held true to their deals, but Shawn always made sure they had enough firepower in case things went south. The homemade drones both held ARs for self defense purposes, and they holstered them when they loaded the supplies into the small vehicle they brought with them.

"Here's the scrap and stuff, where's the food?" Mac said to the contact.

"I'll have it brought here soon."

A few people carried bags of food and water to the car, and dropped off the supplies. A small ammo box full of random types of ammo was also given to the smugglers, and the drones loaded the stuff into the car. "A pleasure doing business with you." Shawn said, and the group left. Shawn checked his watch.

15:29

They had half an hour before Adam would give them a thirty minute window to get into the city. They had plenty of time to spare, and their haul was good. The group soon stashed their car outside the city, and hiked the rest of the way back to the city. A smooth job. When they were back in The Hub, Shawn told Adam to contact the Rebels for a shipment of supplies.

[New Grestin]

Chinatown, New Detroit

The bar stank of body odor and cheap beer. It was a smell Katherine was well accustomed to. The drunkards and whores moved about her, leaving the woman to sit and nurse her drink along. These kind of bars were beyond illegal, but as long as the Mob kept the informants paid off, the authorities were willing to look the other way. People milled about, chatting and drinking as Kat took another sip. It was a disgusting mix of saki and scotch, a new drink the barkeep was trying. It stung like a mother as Kat choked it down, coughing as she did.

"Jesus, Miller. This shit sucks."

The woman's voice drew the attention of the Barkeep. He was a portly man, Italian in descent and sporting a rather large beer belly. His handlebar mustache gave him an old cowboy feel, contradicted with his bleach white mechanical arm that popped and sprang as he snatched the glass away. It was an older model augment, and it hadn't been maintained in years. He shot Kat an ugly look as he wiped the glass.

"Hey, not my fault you ain't got no taste in drinks."

She smiled.

"Not my fault your taste is shit."

The man chuckled, wiping his grubby hands across his apron. His voice crackled out to her, aged and tired.

"Don't you got somewhere to be?"

Kat shrugged, looking over the amassed group. A regular rogues gallery of thieves, prostitutes, and murderers. Even in this crowd, she looked out of place. Clad in a tan trenchcoat, coupled with a pair of black pants and a generic gray shirt. It was a simple getup, inconspicuous enough. Coupled with her brown hair, detailed with a few sparse green highlights, she wouldn't look out of place on some mob death squad. Somehow, she felt more at home with the scum of the Earth than with her own officers. Former officers, she corrected herself. Her gaze turned back to the pudgy man before her.

"Not really. Quiet night. You got any of that ramen left?"

"Ya."

The man slid a small bowl over towards her, it's movement stopped as she grabbed onto it. He slapped a pair of chopsticks nearby, then wandered off to wipe down the bar once more. Kat ate greedily, stuffing food into her mouth as the other patrons milled around. A hand slapped down on her back, suddenly. Her gaze turned to find another man. He was tall, wearing a long trenchcoat and a bowler hat. In another time, he'd look like something out of a pulp detective novel. His cybernetic eye flicked over Kat as he slid into a nearby seat, ensuring she got a good look at his badge .

"Evening Kat."

His voice was cold, almost metallic sounding. She shot him an annoyed look and returned to her food.

"Evening, Louis."

The man sighed, sitting against the bar as he pushed her food away, drawing the woman's attention back towards him.

"You know what I'm here for."

She rolled her eyes, nudging the ramen back and slurping up another set of noodles.

"What? Did MaCarren finally get someone with the balls to put his stray dog down?"

The man set his hat down on the counter, his jacket moving and revealing a handcannon holstered beneath it. At least he's loaded. Better than the last one they sent.

"No. He sent me to ask you to come back in. They've got a job for you."

"Can it wait? I'd really like to finish this."

Louis, frustrated, pushed the bowl aside again. The two stared at one another for some time before Kat rose from her chair, cracking her neck and heading for the door. Her voice called out to Louis as she opened the door, sliding her ballcap on and heading out into the rain.

"Well, fine. Let's go. I've got shit to do."

---

The headquarters of the Main Force Patrol was a shabby building, once the center of the Detroit police department, it had been retrograded into a bizarre amalgamation of old brick and mortar, contrasted with the newer tech. A pair of drones stood by as Kat was led into the building, passing desks of officers before being brought into a small office. A man sat, smoking, behind a mahogany desk. Probably cost him more credits than I'll ever see in my life. The man smiled, motioning for her to sit down. He was short, pudgy and increasingly bald. Putting his cigarette out, he smiled.

"Hey Deck."

Kat shot him a look of disdain.

"MaCarren. I didn't know you'd brown-nosed your way to being chief now."

The man chuckled.

"Regional Director, actually. It's good to see you too."

He set a bottle of scotch onto the table, along with two glasses. As he poured, Kat looked over his office. Old file cabinets filled to the brim with manilla folders on one side, a desk in the middle, and an aging TV set nearby. The TV was hooked up to a nearly ancient VHS player, and despite the poor picture, Kat could make out a bird's eye view of a football game on the monitor. MaCarren slid a glass towards her. She caught it as the man's shit-eating grin carried along with his voice.

"You wouldn't have come in if I'd just asked."

She downed the drink without a word, leaving the two in silence until MaCarren dabbed his sweaty forehead and continued.

"There's a job I need you for. Something big. A bunch of rebs have been causing trouble around the city. I need someone to get rid of them."

"I don't work here anymore, Leonard."

The man rolled his eyes, downing his glass and slapping it down on the table.

"You never even put in your resignation, Deck. You up and left."

She rose from her chair, heading for the door as MaCarren's voice called out to her.

"You know what the score is, Deck? If you're not Loyalist, you're trash. Now, I'm giving you a shot at a clean slate. But that's only if you do this for us."

Kat looked back to the man, sighing as she stepped back over to the desk.

"I want my record expunged, completely. Everything."

MaCarren smiled, drinking down another glass.

"And that's what you'll get. Now, have a seat. We'll go over your targets."